


Seeds In Sunshine

by oogenesis



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Hanahaki Disease, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 02:14:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9051223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oogenesis/pseuds/oogenesis
Summary: Astral is home sick.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hanahaki byou(花吐き病) - A disease of the human system that coughs up flowers due to severe one-sided love.
> 
> Minor emetophobia warning, although I tried my best not to make it seem like vomiting. anyway HAPPY HOLIDAY

Astral is home sick. 

He's tried to put it off - he really doesn't want to miss school. He's a good student with a good attendance record. But eventually he's had to admit - the flowers are becoming a problem.

The flowers, and Tsukumo Yuuma. Astral isn't the type to use the phrase "madly in love"; it's more of a deep, awestruck certainty, a warmth that rolls over him from within whenever Yuuma - does anything really. Yuuma is adorable. Yuuma is endlessly optimistic and bright and amazing. Yuuma puts his feet up on the desk and rescues bugs from the aggressive shoes of his classmates and announces his intent to dig into his lunch with a heartiness that is surely audible from the hallway. Yuuma is the sun and Astral is - Astral is very deeply in love.

And the flowers won't stop coming. They fill his lungs when Yuuma smiles, bright and wonderful; they roll onto his tongue when he makes that particular noise that means he thinks something is just so cool; they spill out of his mouth when Yuuma skids into the class late, bouncing from foot to foot into his desk and apologizing fervently to the teacher's stern gaze. Flowers in his lap under the desk as the class laughs affectionately.

Astral knows he isn't the only one. There was the time Yuuma raised his hand to answer a question, paused and said, "Wait, I... actually don't know..." then gave a bright winning grin and added, "But I can guess for you if you want!" - and Michael Arclight two rows down from Astral got up and hurried out of the room, his hand clamped over his mouth, a daisy slipping between his fingers. He's walked in on Kamishiro Ryouga sulking behind the school, picking rose petals out of his teeth and muttering about "stupid beautiful kattobingu bastard," and whose eyes when he noticed Astral became very wide and his face became very red and he said, "Stop spying on me! Do you want me to rearrange your face for you?" as petals fell out of his mouth. Okudaira Fuuya who sits right behind Yuuma won't stop with the shy admiring glances, any more than he'll stop with the discrete coughing into his hand and the bluebells littering the floor under his desk. The time Alit draped himself over the desk in front of Yuuma and waved a tiger lily in his face, saying, "Guess where this came from!" and at Yuuma's wrinkled nose and tentative "Your... butt?" Alit abruptly turned away and coughed another couple tiger lilies into his hand. The list goes on -

But, anyway, for Astral in particular it's become a problem. His classmates are for the most part tactfully ignoring the bouquet that piles up in his lap, spills onto the floor, the flowers that he has to brush off his desk, but it's getting very hard to focus, and the coughing is starting to wear on his throat. And there's the persistent nervousness that Yuuma will notice, and then - what? The fear shivers down his spine even as the flowers push their way into his throat.

So, he's home sick. Eliphas isn't home much. That's fine. He can take care of himself, and now he just has to do it for a while longer in the day.

The first two days are uneventful; he calls himself in sick (his voice convincingly scratchy from the coughing), lies in bed, reads. Tries not to think about Tsukumo Yuuma, and keeps a basket next to his bed or his chair to collect the flowers when that trying fails. It's not as bad at home as at school, where he never has to see Yuuma's face as opposed to seeing it for hours every day, but it's still - there. Even just remembering why he's home makes him think of bright smile sun smile spring and a bounce, and then the blooming fills his lungs and coughs out of his mouth.

Whenever the basket gets full he takes it out to the compost out back. He doesn't want Eliphas to notice.

These are the first two days. On the third day, which is a weekend, he wakes up from dreams of Yuuma's hand soft in his with his mouth full of violets, and wonders with a feeling of vague fear how much longer this is going to last. Everyone knows the only cure for the disease is for the love to be requited, and quiet invisible Astral, studious doesn't-socialize spends-the-day-in-the-library Astral, surely will never be able to -

The doorbell rings.

Astral's gaze snaps to the clock - 10:16, he's overslept in his sickness - he throws back the covers and stumbles downstairs, opens the door with a, "If it's for Eliphas he's -"

stops.

Slams the door shut again and wills his suddenly wildly beating heart to calm down, slow down. The bouquet that has burst into life in his throat tickles insistently, and so he coughs until his throat hurts and it's all on the ground and then he nudges the pile of tulips into the corner behind the door with his foot, takes a deep steadying breath, and opens the door again.

"Hey, are you okay," says Tsukumo Yuuma, "you sounded like you were coughing pretty badly -"

"I'm fine," says Astral hoarsely. Yuuma's eyes are wide and concerned and catching the light. Petals push their way into his throat and he swallows them down. "Why are you -"

"You haven't been showing up to class lately," says Yuuma, procuring a folder from undet his arm, "so I thought you'd be missing homework. And you like studying, I think, I keep seeing you in the library, so I thought you might not be happy about that? So, I brought the homework."

For a moment Astral can't speak past the flowers in his throat, his lungs. Yuuma has noticed him and Yuuma thought to bring him the homework and -

"Thank you," he says, and his voice barely comes out through the flowers. 

Yuuma's eyes grow a fraction wider with concern. "Whoa, you sound really sick," he says, then, with an edge of nervousness, "Hey, I'm not gonna catch it, am I?"

Astral wants to laugh at the thought. If only. "No, you're fine," he says. "I'm not contagious. You can put it on the table there -"

Yuuma walks inside - looking around in admiration, Astral notices - puts the folder on the coffee table, and then just sort of stands there.

"What's -" begins Astral, only to be interrupted by a nervous "hehe" from Yuuma.

"You see," says Yuuma, and brings his hand to the back of his neck with an awkward grin, "I kind of... don't understand the homework myself. And you're smart, right, so I was hoping you could help me -"

The emotions that rise in Astral's stomach are a strange mix of elation and terror. His mouth works for a moment, after which he hears himself say, "Are you sure?"

What kind of an answer is that! While he mentally smacks himself in the face, Yuuma hesitates. "I can pay you, if you want -"

"No!" says Astral, far too loudly, to drown out the mental image of Yuuma paying him in kisses, soft lips against his at the end of each lesson. The flowers are filling his lungs. "No, it's fine, sorry, I don't know what I was thinking." His treacherous mouth continues, "Would you like to start now?"

"Oh!" says Yuuma. "Um, actually, that would be great, thank you!"

Fully aware that he is making probably the worst decision of his life, Astral says, "You can sit down here," and motions to the kitchen table. The flowers are tickling horribly in his throat. "What do you have the most trouble with?"

"Um," says Yuuma sheepishly, "mostly math, but also kind of, everything?"

"Everything," sighs Astral through the flowers, through the affection, "oh dear. All right, let's start with math -"

It doesn't go - too badly. Astral only has to excuse himself to go clear the swallowed-accumulated flowers out of his lungs twice, and both times Yuuma asks him if he's all right upon his return. Both times Astral waves his hand in a vague "I'm fine" gesture, not trusting himself to open his mouth when Yuuma is looking at him with such concern.

Yuuma is difficult to work with as a student - fidgety, impatient, won't stay focused and a constant "okay but do I really _need_ to learn this?" - but as a person... The faces he makes as he squints at the numbers, the carefree way he tilts back in his chair, the tapping of his pencil - The flowers keep piling up at the back of Astral's throat.

They've struggled through one whole math worksheet by the time Astral starts to feel dizzy. He is, after all, sick, even though it's not for the reasons he's pretending it is. "I think that's all I can manage today," he says, and puts down his pencil. "Still sick, and all that."

"Oh - that's fine!" Yuuma stretches in obvious relief that he doesn't have to do any more math, before asking, "Hey, you're okay, right? I haven't tired you out or anything, have I?"

"No, I'm fine," says Astral, helping Yuuma pick up the papers and put them back in the folder. He is very careful not to let their hands touch - if that were to happen, all of it would come spilling out of his mouth in a riot of soft-petaled color. "It was a pleasure to have you over."

"Same here," says Yuuma. "You know, you're actually a pretty nice guy!"

Astral is taken aback. "What?"

"I mean - you don't really talk to anyone, and when you do it's just about school, and you have this sort of -" Yuuma waves a hand - "kind of uptight vibe -"

"Hey," protests Astral despite himself.

"- but actually talking to you, you're a good guy! Still in an uptight sort of way, mind you -" Yuuma bounces on his heels, grinning. "And a good teacher too, even if you think math is way more important than it really is."

Astral is at a loss as to how to respond. Yuuma's sunlike warmth is surrounding him, overwhelming him. Yuuma has noticed him at school. Yuuma called him a pretty nice guy -

"Anyway, I'll be off now," says Yuuma, and without warning reaches out and pulls Astral into a hug and

Oh no. This is bad. This is very bad. The soft-petaled pressure in his throat has skyrocketed into unbearable intensity. Yuuma is so soft and warm around him, strong sure arms pulling Astral close as if he does this to all his friends, probably does, Yuuma smelling like soap and fresh grass and pressed against him and -

Astral shoves Yuuma away from him, turns away, and coughs and coughs until every last flower is on the floor; a mess of peonies, orchids and forget-me-nots, fluttering to the ground, until his throat and lungs hurt from it. 

When the last of the feeling is gone from his throat he breathes deeply, petals soft on his bare toes, littering the ground in front of him. Then he steels himself, and turns back to face Yuuma, who is watching him with his eyes slightly wide. Astral doesn't say anything. He simply waits.

"Oh," says Yuuma softly, at length. "I didn't know -"

"It's fine," says Astral, his voice hoarse from the coughing. He doesn't know what else to say. Silence falls again and Astral's skin itches and Yuuma isn't saying anything, isn't saying anything -

"So," says Yuuma, leaning forward conspiratorially (and Astral jumps slightly at the broken silence), "who is it?"

 _Oh._ There is a slight spinning in the world around Astral as this new information is absorbed. Yuuma doesn't know, hasn't guessed it's _him_ -

Yuuma seems to have misinterpreted Astral's silence. "Oh, no, no," he says, backpedaling frantically, "you don't have to tell me, sorry, it's personal information I should have thought of that!" He wrenches open the door. "Anyway, I hope we can do this again sometime, make sure you do your homework haha, bye -!" And then he's gone, out into the bright light.

Astral slowly sinks to the ground, sitting on a carpet of bright color. The folder of homework Yuuma left for him is sitting in front of him - bright yellow with old robot stickers half torn-off. Another rush of affection overcomes him, and he coughs a couple impatiens into his hand. Then he just breathes deeply and wonders how on earth he got into this mess.

.

Yuuma keeps coming, and Astral lets him. The basket of flowers sits next to Astral, and Yuuma doesn't question him spitting out the daisies and carnations and black-eyed susans into it. The lessons don't usually last very long, because Astral starts to feel tired, or dizzy, or his throat hurts too much; at which point Yuuma just talks. About his day, about what Astral's been missing at school, about anything really.

"- the other day there was this cat, right, just hanging out on the sidewalk when I was on my way to school. So I tried to pet it, but it ran away from me petting it, so I decided to just leave it alone and keep going on my way. But _then_ it followed me. And I was like, what's up with that, right?"

He's leaning against Astral's shoulder as he says all this, warm through their clothes.

"Maybe it just wanted to spend time with you but not be touched," says Astral. "They're not like dogs."

"I guess," says Yuuma. "Hey, do you like cats?"

Astral has to swallow back a couple flowers at the casual question, the interest in what Astral likes and doesn't like. "I'm not sure... I haven't really been around them much."

"You've never had a pet?"

Astral shakes his head. "Eliphas won't let me."

"Who's Eliphas?" asks Yuuma breezily, and leans further into Astral.

Astral weighs it in his hand, the telling of it. "My uncle. My legal guardian, actually. He isn't home much."

"Oh. Isn't that lonely?"

Astral has honestly never considered it that way. "I - No, not really. I can manage on my own."

"I mean, aren't you sad?" Yuuma twists around and fixes his gaze on Astral. "I'd be lonely, if I was all alone in this big fancy house all day. You don't really have any friends at school, do you?"

Astral has never really thought of the house as fancy. "I mean - I'm used to it, I think."

Yuuma frowns. "That's no good," he says decisively. "I'm going to have to bring you over to my house and meet my family -"

Astral's pulse skyrockets. _Meet his family,_ good lord. Swallowing back the rush of flowers in his throat, he asks, "Are you sure?"

"Why not?"

Astral has no idea what to say to this - this carefree openness, this welcoming. He eventually settles on, "Don't you think we should get back to math?"

Yuuma groans loudly.

.

Astral has been working on repressing it and he thinks it's working.

He sits in his bed, stares at the wall, and thinks about Yuuma. Forces himself to think about Yuuma. Forces the thoughts down the single channel of "classmate and unofficial student". Represses the blushing, represses the warm feelings, represses the thoughts of his smile and his bright energy and the way he squints with his tongue between his teeth when the worksheets are hard. Swallows the flowers. No more room for all that. Tsukumo Yuuma is a fellow classmate and nothing more.

It's working. It seems to be working. Yuuma shows up one morning holding a plastic container of what looks like soup, announcing, "I forgot, you're still sick, right? So I made my sister make chicken soup -" and only the smallest petal tickles at Astral's throat.

"Thank you," he says, "I'm getting better though, I think."

"Oh," says Yuuma, hefting the container in his hands. Then he grins brightly and says, "Well, it can't hurt, right?" - and the repression has definitely been working. Astral's lungs that would normally bloom with flowers at such a bright carefree grin instead offer up a few more small petals. He coughs them into his palm like snowflakes.

Yuuma insists on tucking Astral back into bed. "I've never gotten to take care of a sick person before," he says, despite Astral's protests that he isn't really sick anymore, he's getting better - "Let me have this, okay?"

Astral lets him. Yuuma spoonfeeds him the soup, one hand cupped under it so it won't drip on the sheets, and Astral feels a little ridiculous opening his mouth like a baby bird to be fed - but at the same time Yuuma's intense focus in doing so, and the tongue between his teeth, puts a warmth in his heart quite separate from the soup.

"There," says Yuuma, and gently scrapes a stray drop of soup off Astral's lip with the edge of the spoon. "How's that feel?"

"You don't have to do all this," Astral reminds him, but then adds, "Good. Thank you."

"I'm glad!" says Yuuma, grinning. He brings out the folder and puts it on the nightstand. "Here's the work for today." Happily he adds, "No math."

"Really?"

Yuuma nods. "The teacher was out sick."

The most fleeting of thoughts flashes across Astral's mind, about what if that teacher had the same problem he does? He dismisses it. People get sick all the time. "Is that why you thought to bring me the soup?"

"Oh -" Yuuma pauses in surprise, his hand in the air. "Come to think of it, yeah, maybe."

"I appreciate it," says Astral, warmth curling into his stomach. Another couple petals fall onto the sheets, but this is really much less than it used to be. The repressing is working.

They work over some of the history homework together, Yuuma leaning over the worksheets spread out on the floral-patterned quilt over Astral's lap. The branches rustle outside, the basket at the foot of the bed quietly filled with flowers. Yuuma leans his elbows onto Astral's lap and Astral feels remarkably warm and content.

"Hey, Astral," says Yuuma at length. "Have you ever been on your roof?"

"What?" Astral is taken aback. "My roof?"

"Like, the roof of your house," says Yuuma. "Have you ever been up there?"

"Of course not," says Astral, bewildered. "Why would I go up there?"

"Because it's fun," says Yuuma, giving him an odd look. "You mean to tell me you've never even thought about going up there?"

"No...?"

"I mean, your house is perfect for it," Yuuma points out. "Big and fancy with all the little," he gestures, "sticky-out window bits and extension things and all that. Good for climbing. You should really try someday."

"Eliphas wouldn't like it," protests Astral.

Yuuma snorts. "From the sound of it Eliphas doesn't really like anything. Cmon, Astral, live a little."

"I'll - I'll think about it," says Astral, and Yuuma grins. Again. Astral's poor heart really can't take any more grinning.

"That's the spirit," he says, and Astral wonders at the lack of flowers falling from his own mouth, because what is that if not the repression tactics working? except that the affection, the love that blooms in his chest is not repression at all.

.

Two days of visits later the flowers have stopped completely; not a single petal crosses Astral's lips. His lungs feel remarkably clear and bright; as though he can breathe properly for the first time without a bouquet filling his rib cage. "Hi," says Yuuma when he arrives, leaning against the doorframe, and Astral blurts out, "Let's go up onto the roof."

A slow bright smile spreads across Yuuma's face. "Nice!" he says, and rubs his hands together, and bounces a little on his toes. "All right, which room has that window that sort of sticks out like over the garden?"

It's Eliphas' bedroom. Astral experiences a vague and foreboding sense of transgression as Yuuma pushes open the window, letting light flood over the neatly made bed, the organized dresser. "Come on," calls Yuuma, and puts one foot up on the windowsill and then he's gone, up and out.

It takes a lot of scrambling to get Astral up on the roof as well; a lot of coaxing and encouragement on Yuuma's part and a lot of clinging tightly to the slate tiles on Astral's part. Finally, however, they sit on the peak of the roof, the tiles sun-warmed under their legs, the neighborhood spread out before them. They are on a level with the treetops, which rustle in the breeze. A bird twitters near by and the air is quiet and gentle.

Astral lets out a long breath and says, "Thank you for showing me this."

"It's no problem," says Yuuma breezily, and oh, he looks radiant, his face turned towards the sun, leaning back on his palms. The skin of his cheek looks smooth and soft and Astral wants to kiss it. He breathes through this wanting evenly, smoothly, no flowers in his lungs or in his throat.

He says, "I think I'll be ready to go back to school tomorrow."

Yuuma turns to look at him. "Really?"

"Yes." He feels remarkably at peace, up here on the rooftop, at the top of the world, with Yuuma beside him. "The flowers have stopped."

"Yeah, I noticed."

"I've been repressing it," said Astral, because it's not like it matters now. "People say you can't cure it through that, but I think it worked. Maybe I'm just better at repressing things than most people -"

"Astral," says Yuuma, and the tone of his voice gives Astral pause. Yuuma is looking at him intently. "Who was it?"

And the breath catches again in Astral's throat, like a cork in a winebottle. "I -"

Yuuma leans in. "Was it me?"

"I -" squeaks Astral, and then, looking down at his hands on the roof, bracing himself against the sun-warmed slate, the gray evenness of it between his fingers, "yes. Yes it was."

"That's what I thought," says Yuuma, and when Astral dares look up again his breath is once more taken away by the blinding smile on Yuuma's face, dazzling in realization. "That's what I thought. Because the flowers kept coming less and less the more I fell in love with you -"

It's not in Astral's lungs this time, but everywhere - his entire body bursting into bloom; flowers growing in the pit of his stomach, between his fingers and through his limbs, blooming behind his eyes, filling his head with bright colors, all of him blossoming. At least, that's what it feels like. Yuuma is laughing in amazed delight in front of him.

"You -" says Astral. "All along, you -"

"Yes!" says Yuuma, and leans forward and wraps his arms around Astral, who has a flash of worry that Yuuma is doing this when they're sitting on top of the roof, but he knows Yuuma won't let him fall. Yuuma is warm and strong surrounding him, and as Astral's arms go up to hug him in return he thinks of flowers blooming all over the two of them, wrapping them in a vine-package of bright color bursting with joy.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks on a daring impulse, pulling away just a little bit, and Yuuma says breathlessly, "Of course -"

\- and Yuuma's lips are gentle and warm, hesitant against his, they fumble with the angle and the positioning a little but Astral's chest is so warm with love it doesn't really matter. He is on the rooftop, on top of the world, kissing Tsukumo Yuuma.

The next day Astral goes back to school.

**Author's Note:**

> [The illustration to go with it](http://yugiohlesbian.tumblr.com/post/154937764022/)
> 
> As always, comments are highly appreciated and usually make my day!


End file.
